


Captain Dragneel's Birthday Surprise

by leetokeen



Series: The Bold Adventures of Dread Pirate Natsu Dragneel [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Gen, Humor, Space Battles, Space Pirates, Tartaros Arc (Fairy Tail)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leetokeen/pseuds/leetokeen
Summary: Captain Gray Fullbuster and Fleet Commander Erza Scarlet come to terms with their recent victory over Tartaros when the sudden appearance of a legendary foe rattles the fleet.





	Captain Dragneel's Birthday Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [splendidlyimperfect](https://archiveofourown.org/users/splendidlyimperfect/gifts).



Planetary micro-shards bounced off the ship’s shields like rain softly pattering on an umbrella.

“Status, Mr. Redfox?”

Gajeel stared intently at his instrument panel, his emotions betrayed only by the angle of his smirk. “Planet Tartaros has been completely destroyed, Captain. Engineering reports the Etherion cannon’s energy levels are falling back within the expected range for the cooldown phase.”

Gray’s eyes narrowed at the scene unfolding on the _Fairy Law_ ’s external cameras. He let a glimmer of relief slip into his voice. “Thank you. May those devils burn in Hell for eternity.”

Around Tartaros’ parent star, itself on the far fringes of the Fiorean Galaxy, the system’s largest planet was now its newest asteroid field. The Etherion cannon made sure of that. Eventually, in millions of years, the field would become an asteroid belt, and Gray wondered if anyone around at that time would know why. Would historians of the future mark this day as the end of the Baram Alliance’s dark reign? Gray pushed the hypotheticals from his mind; they mattered little in the here and now, and his attention was still needed in the present.

Planetary fragments, the largest of which accounted for close to 10 percent of the planet’s mass, majestically floated away from each other in a kind of slow-motion ballet. Each incandescent shard, some the size of continents, was moving at thousands of metres per second, but the vast distance of space transformed the bedlam into something almost peaceful. Gray could mark the spots where oceans had boiled, noting the deep mountain ranges that were once the planet’s seafloor. Crevasses ran across the outer crust, all glowing red around the edges, having absorbed what they could of the Etherion’s overwhelming destructive power.

An immaculately positioned cloud of guild ships, aligned in their noble intent, ensured no Baram Alliance stragglers escaped to tell the tale. “Let them all smash themselves against the fist of fate,” Admiral Makarov had said at the time. Some enemy ships had tried to flee, of course—what were they if not cowards when they truly looked Death in the face?—but they were caught in the well-executed crossfire, courtesy of Mavis’ tactical genius. Other Baram ships stubbornly maintained orbit, even as their planetary anchor disintegrated beneath them. The debris, rushing outward at incredible speed, would at least make their deaths relatively painless.

The comm crackled to life, and Gray heard yeoman Levy swivel in her chair and call across the bridge. “Incoming transmission from the _Christina XII_ , sir.”

“Patch it through,” Gray replied instinctively, arms crossed over his chest and head cocked to the side. He was starting to get the hang of this whole ‘Captain’ business. As if by premonition, he was suddenly aware of the smell of ozone coming through the ship’s air filters.

An extraordinarily dapper man then burst to life on the view screen, radiant white suit framing a smattering of groomed chest hair. “We bask in the sweet parfum of victory, my friends,” Ichiya crooned as he dipped his head, raised and crossed his arms, extended his fingers and spun on his heels. Gray didn’t have to turn around to know that Levy and Gajeel were rolling their eyes, but he was nevertheless impressed by the man’s effortless choreography. Behind Ichiya, the Trimen—Hibiki, Ren, and Eve—could be seen busily operating a set of complex holographic displays.  

“Indeed we do, Comrade Ichiya,” Gray replied formally. Tradition dictated that appearances of professionalism and courtesy had to be maintained when communicating across official channels, no matter how casual the two might have been at the Crocus bar before the battle. “How fares Blue Pegasus?”

“Ah, we are well enough,” Ichiya said, eyes raised to the ceiling, arm draped dramatically across his forehead. “Alas, damage to our energy matrix is severe; Nichiya drove us straight into the planetary defense grid. Admittedly, it was his first time at the helm, and his console exploded fantastically, but his sweet parfum of sacrifice—as he lay bravely charred—saw us through to final victory.” Gray noted the twitch Hibiki had tried and failed to suppress upon hearing his sensei’s words.

“Yes, well… good to hear,” Gray managed to reply. “I was just about to contact the _Zero Hour_ ; did you want to join me?” Gray immediately regretted the invitation, knowing how Ichiya tended to react to women, but fortune favoured him.

“I take due note of your courtesy, Captain Fullbuster, but I must tend to the _Christina_ ’s grievous wounds. Without our energy matrix, the entire Etherion network is disrupted. To be caught unprepared by Baram’s pawns, coming to foolishly avenge their masters, would be a foul parfum indeed. Farewell!” Ichiya spun once more, flung his arms out to either side, and the connection dropped. A sigh of relief passed through the bridge crew.

 

* * *

 

Mavis, Makarov, Erza and the rest of the command cadre conferred on the bridge of the guild flagship _Zero Hour_ , the spearhead of the joint attack force and the apex of the distributed Etherion cannon matrix. It was through the _Zero Hour_ that the six other legal guild ships— _Fairy Law_ , _Christina XII_ , _Sabre’s Tooth_ , _Fourcanine_ , _Merfolk Ascendant_ , and _Twilight Raven—_ could channel their energy to unleash a blast strong enough to crack a planet.

“Take careful note of Ichiya’s report, Admiral,” Erza intoned. “With hours to go until the _Christina_ ’s matrix is repaired, we are without our most powerful weapon. Although Tartaros and its fleets lay broken before us, we must not be lulled into complacency.”

Makarov sat upon a railing, the twin tails of his masters’ headwear flopping to either side. He lazily kicked his feet in the air like a young lad on a swing. “Erza, my child, how easy you forget: our greatest weapon is not an energy blast. It is our comrades! After all, what can’t we face if we’re together?” Makarov’s grin beamed across the planning table, and Erza looked down and smiled. She couldn’t help but recognize the truth of her master’s words.

A small cough interrupted the moment shared between the two strategists. “Our comrades are our best assets, no doubt, but a pinch of strategy can go a long way too.” Mavis looked hopefully at Makarov, then turned to offer Erza the same glance. “We would be wise to consider every piece on the playing board, wouldn’t you say?”

Mavis returned her attention to the planning table and quickly booped in some notes next to the _Christina_ ’s representation. A small countdown floated into existence above the ship’s holographic tailfin, and it began ticking down from five hours. Further along the displayed battlefield, the fragments of Planet Tartoros continued to slowly drift apart. Tiny flashing indicators tracked their progress as they headed away from each other into space.

Mavis had, of course, been opposed to the plan at first. What if the Nine Demon Gates could be saved, or redeemed in some way? Could they repay their debts to humanity given enough time? As it turns out, such considerations were academic. After what they did to Magnolia, there was no way the more hawkish factions within the legal guild system would settle for anything short of total victory. “They’ll come for us when our backs our turned,” they said. “It’s us or them!” others cried. She could see their points of view—especially those who had lost loved ones—but she was still left wondering if it was the best way forward.

A blaring proximity klaxon brought Mavis back to reality. Around her, the _Zero Hour_ ’s bridge crew burst into action.

“Report!”Erza shouted, wasting no time as she sailed into the captain’s chair and fastened her restraints. A sudden movement during zero-G combat could easily send anything—or anyone—hurtling into a bulkhead with fatal results. “Who’s out there?”

“I don’t think it’s the Baram Alliance, Captain,” the tactical officer started.“It’s as if—“ 

“Just the facts, Cana,” Erza said. She was patient, but she had little tolerance for early assumptions; there was nothing more dangerous in the run-up to battle. “What do we have?”

Cana took a deep breath as the data cascaded down her screen. “Sir. It’s not Baram or any known dark guild. The ship doesn’t match any stored physical profiles and the transponder is scrambling our sensors. Best guess? Pirates.”

Erza almost burst out laughing. “Pirates? Hah! Only a ship full of fools would hurl themselves into the dragon’s mouth. We’re in command of the largest combined force ever assem—”

The _Zero Hour_ shuddered as plasma fire poured into the fore shields, and damage alarms started competing with the proximity klaxon for attention. “Are they _shooting_ at us?” Erza prided herself on her composure in battle, but even she found herself dumbfounded by this apparent act of madness. “Cana, on screen!”

The display shifted from the ashes of Planet Tartaros to focus on the ship bombarding them from just tens of meters away. It was at least a half a kilometre long and bristled with cannons. Sharp protrusions along the ship’s spine evoked draconic origins, and its triangular command deck—set forward from the main body, as if on a long neck—completed the image. Unlike most spacefaring ships, which engineers never bothered to paint, this one was strikingly adorned in fiery shades of red.

Erza’s heart hammered in her chest in a mix of anticipation and fear. “It’s… him.” Mavis and Makarov stood nearby, transfixed by the spectacle, thoughts and strategies racing through their minds.

As if in response, the comm beeped an incoming connection request. “Put them on! Let’s see what they have to say for themselves,” Erza said.

“It’s Captain Fullbuster, sir.” Warren, the communications officer, seemed almost apologetic. “Patching him through.”

The fiery draconic intruder continued pouring fire into the shields as its image was replaced by Gray, arms crossed, with the bridge crew of _Fairy Law_ visible behind him.

Erza couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “Damn it, Gray! Put your clothes back on!”

“Gah!” Gray despairingly looked down and around, hoping against hope that his uniform would be found around his feet. It was nowhere to be seen. “Sorry, Captain Scarlet,” Gray stammered. “It’s that ship—it’s him.” 

“I know,” Erza replied. The _Zero Hour_ continued to shudder under the withering barrage. “We’ve got our hands full at the moment, but prepare yourself and the others for a flanking attack on our mark. We’re not going down without a fight.” Erza put on an air of bravery that she wasn’t sure she actually felt. 

She quickly checked the damage reports on her console, and it wasn't looking good: the shields had been pierced. "Reroute energy to the aft starboard shields and lock on to that ship with the targeting laser!"

"Aye, Captain! Locking on."

Just as suddenly as Gray’s image disappeared from the display, another took its place. There stood a single man with loose fitting white pants and long, spiked pink hair. His chequered scarf fluttered in an unknown breeze, and his arms were folded across a dark, sleeveless vest. His eyes were locked on his feet in a dramatic display of nonchalance.

“Greetings, space jerks!” A booming, high-energy voice burst through the comm as the man looked up, fire flashing in his eyes. “It is I, the Dread Pirate Natsu Dragneel! I have at my command the most fearsome ship in the Fiorean Galaxy, the dreadnought _Igneel_ , and I am here to rid the sector of your foul presence. The Baram Alliance dies this day!”

Erza, stunned into silence, was the first among the three to recover enough to speak. “Baka, you idiot! We just blew Tartaros to pieces, and Grimoire Heart and the Oracion Seis met similar fates long ago. Have you considered looking at your sensors before opening fire on random ships?”

Natsu took a step back, shock written all over his face. “Whaaaa? Oh, jeez! One sec.” He rubbed the back of his head and turned to look at something off screen. “Happy, you told me these were dark guild ships! What’s the deal?”

“Sorry Natsu…” said a tiny, mewling voice from off-screen. “There was fish sauce on the monitor, and it made the smiley faces look like frowny faces…”

Dread Pirate Natsu Dragneel turned back to the camera and slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “Hah hah! My bad, guys! Turns out we had a miscommunication in our tactical department…” Natsu shot a glance to his left. "Just a misunderstanding, right?" He grinned in a spritely, good-humoured way and the plasma barrage ceased as suddenly as it had begun.

Erza, Mavis and Makarov turned to face each other, eyebrows arched, and shared a look of disbelief. Erza glanced at Warren and gestured to kill the audio feed; he nodded.

"Could it really be true," Mavis pondered, "that this legendary outlaw is this incompetent?" She took on an air of bemusement as she took in the roguish figure still prominently displayed on the screen.

Erza didn't look convinced. "His bridge crew does seem rather... small... but he has a fierce reputation. What kind of idiot would just open up point blank on a whim? He must have dumped a year's worth of plasma cells into our shields."

Makarov, silent as a stone, stroked his chin. "What if his aim wasn't destruction, but distraction?" Erza looked at him, a question written upon her face, but before Makarov could continue, it became impossible to ignore Dragneel's insistent waving. He made a cupping motion around his ear, which Erza interpreted as seeking to have the audio reinstated. Erza nodded at Warren, and a click brought Natsu's high-energy voice back to the comm.

"Listen, I'm sure you're having a very important conference, but uh, I need to get going. Good job blowing up Tartoros! We won't miss those assholes. See ya!" The image snapped off as suddenly as it had appeared. Cana, having anticipated the move, deftly brought the external cameras back on. They were just in time to catch the _Igneel_ on its departure vector before it disappeared into subspace.

"Well, _that_ was weird," said Warren, giving voice to what everyone on the bridge was feeling.

Before Erza could think to reply, the aft bridge doors swished open and the ship's chef stormed up the deck. Her face was a mask of rage and fury, and she brandished a massive cleaver over her head. "Captain! Lock down the ship! A terrorist is aboard!" Her whole body shook with unbridled anger, and grains of freshly prepared rice cascaded free from her yellow-stained apron onto the shallow carpet.

Makarov took a step back, his gaze narrowing. "A terrorist, you say? Mirajane, explain yourself!"

Her rage continued unabated. "I was cooking a guild victory meal after I heard the news about Tartaros, but when I went to check the stores for my sushi prep, the hold was completely empty. A sushi terrorist slithers among us!" Her eyes shifted left and right, narrowing as she mentally took note of any potential suspects.

Erza put her hand to her chin, the fiery-haired captain's signal for deep thought. "The hold... but that's—"

"Aft starboard, sir," Cana added helpfully.

Mavis started to giggle as Erza's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Are you kidding me?" Her mouth fell open, shock and anger written on her face. "Natsu DRAGNEEEEEEEEEEL!!"

 

* * *

 

The _Igneel_ shot through subspace like a fusion-powered cannonball. Natsu and Happy reclined in their chairs, bellies exaggeratedly full to bursting. Around them, fish bones and rice grains littered the command deck. Happy rubbed his belly, eyes rolled back in delight, and stuck out his paw in Natsu's general direction. "Arigato, Natsu!"

Natsu reached out and lightly tapped Happy's extended paw, their traditional fist-bump embrace. "No problem, buddy. Happy birthday."


End file.
